Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Rider of the storm 4

She'd been having the dreams for most of her life.

At first they'd been scattered images; sometimes nothing more than the smell of cowhide, of earth and rain, sometimes a glimpse of a saddle, or the sound of spurs hitting the floor.

As she'd grown older, though, the dreams had grown more detailed and more coherent. She'd dreamed of playing the harmonica to the open sky as cows settled all around her.

Once she'd dreamed of a stampede, of falling, and of a strong hand pulling her onto a saddle.

She'd even dreamed of the Dark Rider once, her arms wrapped around his broad back even as the horse beneath her leaped...and the sounds of hooves fell away and the ground was left behind in the thunder and the rain.

She'd always assumed that she'd heard of the Rider somewhere and that it had simply taken root in her subconscious. When she'd heard the stories about him she'd been drawn to them, fascinated.

It was easier to write a thesis about something you were passionate about and interested in.

The dreams of King Midas had only begun a few months ago, but Lois would swear that she'd never seen anything about him in her research. Of course, it was possible that it had only been a passing reference that she hadn't thought anything about at the time, but why would it have made such an impression as to become part of her dreams?

Lois closed her eyes for a moment.

She couldn't afford to get sidetracked. She only had a limited time here, and if she spent it all woolgathering, she'd go home with nothing.

Paper after paper, spool after spool, Lois soon discovered that she'd hit the motherlode.

There were report after report in the newspaper about the Dark Rider and his activities; more stories than she'd found in months anywhere else.

Furthermore, the stories of the Rider had always been scattered across the country and even across the world. He never appeared in any one place for more than one or two rescues.

Here, though, there had been dozens of rescues from 1896 to 1905. After that, they'd abruptly stopped.

Lois frowned.

There was something about those dates that seemed familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

Sometimes urban legends had a core of truth to them, something real that had been exaggerated over time.

Had there really been some sort of masked mystery man wandering the bayous outside New Orleans?

Even back then it would have been hard to hide a secret like that, at least over the long term. Someone was sure to recognize the man's horse even if they didn't know his voice, or how he moved, or recognize a piece of jewelry.

The thought that someone could hide in plain sight was absurd.

Lois couldn't imagine having any trouble recognizing someone she'd known her whole life even through some sort of flimsy costume.

Of course, most of the rescues had been done at night, in poor lighting. From a distance it might be very different.

She'd seen a study once that said that after twenty five feet, people's ability to recognize faces dropped and for people with normal vision, it was impossible to recognize faces at one hundred fifty feet.

In an era where photographs had taken minutes instead of seconds, perhaps it wasn't that strange that someone could keep their identity a secret, especially if they didn't mingle in the community much.

The announcement that the library would be closing soon startled her. Had she been here this long?

She quickly gathered her materials and hurried to get copies made before she had to leave the library. With what she had now she could probably complete her thesis, but she found herself intrigued.

She'd always approached the Dark Rider stories as myth. She'd assumed that if there was any truth to them that it had been strangers helping inspired by the story. After all, while the first Dark Rider rescue had occurred in 1893, the last had occurred only two years ago, at least the last that she could find.

For a moment Lois was entertained with the idea of a one hundred thirty year old Rider rescuing people from a motorized scooter.

While it was obvious that there was never going to be a single Dark Rider, the idea that there might have been an original one was intriguing. Being able to figure out just who that had been would be a real feather in her cap.

She might even be able to write a book about it that was of interest to someone other than a group of dried up old academics.

It wasn't like her interest in King Midas. Clark Kent and his family weren't of interest to anyone, and if it hadn't been for her dreams Lois wouldn't have been interested in him either.

Despite the fact that it had nothing to do with her thesis, Lois copied off what information she had on Clark Kent, his family and his legacy.

As she was reaching to put it away into her satchel, a number caught her eye.

He'd left New Orleans to go to Kansas two years after his marriage in 1903. That would have been 1905.

That was the same year the Rider sightings had stopped in New Orleans altogether.

Lois felt a sudden surge of excitement.

The odds were that it was a coincidence; presumably many people had left New Orleans in 1905, just as many had moved into town in 1896.

Still...he'd moved to Kansas after that, and there had been a spate of Rider sightings in Kansas and the surrounding states for the next twenty years.

As she stepped out of the library, she felt a sense of excitement. Even if the lead didn't pan out, this was an excuse to dig a little more into the background of the man she'd been dreaming about.

What were the odds that she would have been dreaming about two men and that they would somehow be connected?

She felt herself suddenly excited to go back to her hotel room; she had copies of the rest of her research and she'd like to see if she could connect the movements of the Kent family to the Rider sightings.

As she stepped out of the building, she noticed that the sun was going down already; it had taken her longer than the allotted fifteen minutes to get all of her copying done.

She was struck by how pleasant the weather was. She'd always heard that New Orleans was unbearably hot and humid, especially compared to Metropolis. Jenna had told her that for much of the year that was true, but Mardis Gras had the best weather.

Of course, they were early. Mardis Gras didn't really start until tonight, and after that it would continue for two weeks.

Lois wasn't sure she wanted to be in the French Quarter when that happened. The night before had been bad enough. She'd found herself wanting to cover Lucy's eyes more than once. If Jenna hadn't been there, she'd have been tempted to cover her own eyes once or twice.

Still, outside the French Quarter, Mardis Gras was a family event. It was all about parades and little dolls baked into King Cakes.

Lucy was still young enough to want to see some of the parades, and Lois found herself mildly interested as well. From what she'd heard they weren't anything like the annual Thanksgiving parades in Metropolis.

Still, the one thing she didn't like about New Orleans was the public transportation system. In Metropolis, there was always the subway and a taxicab was on every corner.

Here, there were buses and streetcars. The streetcars were interesting, but Lois hated waiting for anything, much less a bus on track with open windows.

At least her Metropolis existence had made her proficient at reading maps and time tables. There was a streetcar coming in fifteen minutes.

The sun was going down already, and as Lois heard the doors to the library lock behind her, she felt slightly uneasy.

She was a veteran at moving around Metropolis. While it was large enough that no one could know all of it, she could navigate it easily.

Here, though, she was in an unfamiliar city. There were no cabs in sight, and because she'd been late getting out, the other patrons of the library had already left.

There wasn't even anyone waiting for the streetcar.

It almost felt as though she was being watched, even though there was no one around. The traffic had lightened considerably, possibly in anticipation of parades in the other part of the city, but there were still enough cars that Lois shouldn't have felt uncomfortable.

Uneasily, Lois moved toward the part of the street where she was to wait for the streetcar. This at least had the advantage of being brightly lit and in between the two lanes of cars. It would be difficult for anyone to approach her without being seen.

She waited impatiently, keeping an eye out as well as she could.

The one thing she'd always learned in Metropolis was to listen to her instincts; if they told her something was wrong, something usually was.